He has no teeth, he might be drunk, but this much is clear—the world has taken its toll on him. The elderly veteran sits on the window sill of the Sara Francis Motel, and brightly inquiries Melinda Forstey, our guide, of the free meals that are offered just a few blocks down. He tells us that we wouldn’t be standing here if not for his efforts during WWII. We exchange our pleasantries, and we go our way.

The conversation leaves me unsettled as I cross the sunny street. Our system rots at the core.

We are not doing enough for our seniors, let alone our veterans—that much is evident. As Melinda explained to us, the median income a senior has is around $950 per month. To put that in perspective, the average rent for a studio in the San Diego area is around $1200. 80% of seniors are living at or below the poverty level.

So, you might ask, how are seniors living—no—surviving?

By means of economically incentivizing senior-housing construction have elders been able to live comfortably. Through tax credits, investors who will pay 70% of building logistics are able to write off their taxes. Aided by vouchers from the Housing Commission and other outside, third-party collaborations make places like the Potiker Family Senior Residence possible. But even then, having a place to stay isn’t everything.

In regards to nutrition, certain hunger-based organizations serve about 600,000 meals annually to seniors whose only requirement is that they be sixty. There is a recommended donation, but these meals can be had for free. These programs function 365 days per year, and also serve about 500 homebound seniors each day. While these numbers may seem staggering, they are dwarfed by the inexorable tide of the senior crisis that looms over an ill-equipped American society.

As we drove by PATH San Diego’s Connections Housing, Professor Bussell mentioned that in order to provide for the silver tsunami, San Diego needs to have two hundred-thousand housing units in the next decade or so. The city is not even close in accommodating this surge. With this deficiency, chances for obtaining shelter at Section 8 Housing grow even thinner still. There is a waiting list of about 15 years for those who probably need a place to stay at the moment in time.

This is unacceptable.

​Walking through and driving by these places made this crisis all the more real and pertinent to me. There is a stigma that surrounds the aging community. When I navigated through these units, I saw people—people who had carried the weight of the world on their shoulders. And here, at a time when they are most vulnerable, they are struggling to find a place to live. What is more heinous to consider is that the North Park Senior Apartments (specifically geared towards LGBTQ seniors) aren’t exclusively just for LGBTQ allies or individuals. With a legal lottery in place and a system that possesses notable flaws, there is only so much that people with good hearts can do for others.